Veritas Vineas
by veritas vineas
Summary: Looks like Harry had just a little too much to drink


Harry Potter and associated characters not mine. Slash warning

"Harry James Potter!" Have you been drinking?" Hermione asked in a maternal voice that Harry did not care for.

"Of course not, Hermione." Harry lied smoothly, extremely careful not to slur his words.

"You're lying to me?" Harry was a little taken aback by Hermione very correct assumption. How did she see through his lie? He was sure not to slur at all.

"Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should go to bed." Harry shook his head furiously. While doing so, he caught a few glimpses of Davis spontaneously doing the most perfect back flips.

"I'm fine." Hermione looked to where Davis was too. She considered Harry's reply for a moment, looking at Davis with concerned eyes.

"Fine, but you have to tell me where the alcohol's coming from." Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It obviously was Jade Pilf. She's been supplying the stuff to the inter-House parties all year—practically everyone knew that. This was Harry's first time actually having some; Ron finally talked him into it.

"I don't remember. It's all a blur." Harry slurred on purpose this time. Since she already knew that he was indeed drunk, why not use that to his advantage? Hermione pursed her lips at his most recent lie.

"All right, but you really should get to bed, I don't think it is a good idea to have you walking around in this state." Harry wanted to come up with a reason as to why it was, in fact, an excellent idea, but, alas, he couldn't,

"Okay." Hermione eyed him strangely before walking off, presumably in search of her next victim. She abruptly turned around with signs of irritation written all over her face.

"Go, Harry!" Harry held up his hands to defend himself against the crazy lady. Hermione huffed and stalked off. "And you've been slurring this whole time!" She hissed over her shoulder. Oh, Harry thought, so that's how she knew.

Well, in that case, maybe it was time for him to leave. Besides, he's had his fun and it was late enough that he could now make an exit without looking like a prude.

"Good gods, Potter, did you drown in the liquor? As a Malfoy, I'm always fresh." Harry silently cheered. It was Draco(!), his incredibly hot and sexy crush/mortal enemy. Harry turned around to meet a wide-eyed and gaping Draco.

"What, Malfoy?" Harry's attempt at a disinterested Malfoy-like drawl didn't come out right, he was too worried for his love. Draco's mouth dropped even lower. Harry wondered what could have caused that. It wasn't as if he admitted that he would gladly to bend over for the arrogant blonde. Maybe he sounded too familiar in his question. He must keep up the illusion of nothing but pure hatred for this boy. Harry then naughtily thought that Draco could probably take all of him if his pretty mouth stayed like that. It snapped shut.

"That's better, Malfoy, you were attracting flies." Draco immediately donned his usual mask of indifference.

"No, Potter, that would be your specialty. As a Malfoy, I-." Malfoy was interrupted by a Neville who came barreling into him. They landed on the floor together.

"Longbottom, you clumsy oaf! As a Malfoy, I will get my revenge!" Neville gave Draco puzzled look while scrambling to get up. Harry knew the reason for his confusion was Draco's overuse of his own name, which had him stumped too. But, there were more pressing issues to attend to. Like the fact, that Neville got be sprawled on top of Draco. And how Harry was insanely jealous of that. Neville had shifted his odd look to Harry. It was eerily reminiscent of Hermione's look earlier. Neville eventually gave a sigh and moved to bump into other people.

Harry wondered why he was crashing into people like that. Sure, the boy was a bit uncoordinated, but not so much that he couldn't manage to walk three feet without crashing into somebody or something.

"Don't be so surprised, Longbottom has always had this unbelievable lack of grace. As a Malfoy, I'm very well-coordinated."

"Why do you keep referring to yourself?" Your absolutely yummy self, Harry added silently. Draco didn't answer, though. It almost seemed as though Draco was waiting for Harry to answer his question. Harry found himself gazing into Draco's mercury eyes.

Gods, how he wished that he could just slink up to Draco. Wrapped his arms around. Kiss him softly.

And do whatever it takes to make him moan.

Draco suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the Great Hall. Out in the corridor, Draco practically pounced on Harry. After the first two minutes, Draco pulled away.

"You have the most annoying habit of talking to yourself when you're drunk. As a Malfoy—" Harry moved to catch his lips again before he could finish that sentence.

And the next morning

"How are you doing, Harry?"

"Fine, just got a headache."

"That's what you get for drinking. Do you remember at all what happened last night?" Harry colored a little, does she—? "It was like you were narrating your life. You kept saying what was going on in your head and repeating things that happened. I think that alcohol made your life even more of an open book."

"What? Why didn't you tell me? I could have said something I shouldn't." Hermione shrugged.

"I did. I tried about five or six times. You actually repeated what I said for your narration, but it didn't seem to sink in. It wouldn't allow you to realize what you were doing. I tried to tell some other people too, but nobody listened to me."

"Oh. So, where's Ron?" Hermione screwed up her lips.

"Hospital Wing."

"What happened? Is he okay?" Her eyebrows raised.

"Let's just say that he kept sticking his nose where it really didn't belong. And a person can only get slapped so many times." It was visibly hard for Harry to keep the chuckles in.

"It not that funny! At least you didn't get yourself into any trouble."

Harry smiled to himself, extra glad that not to be drunk right now.


End file.
